


come and save me from it

by staticpetrichor



Series: MCU prompts [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Broken Bones, Concussions, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tumblr Prompt, Whump, dad tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22751047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticpetrichor/pseuds/staticpetrichor
Summary: an anon wanted some peter parker whump and i was happy to deliver :)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: MCU prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608514
Kudos: 90





	come and save me from it

“No, no, I’m okay Karen! It’s fine.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth. But they turned out to be unnecessary as the AI went offline about halfway through his protests. He must’ve damaged the suit a hell of a lot more than he’d thought. Shoving back the pang of guilt at having lost his companion, he forced himself up onto his elbows and couldn’t help the whimper that parted his lips.

So maybe Peter wasn’t entirely okay.

His left ribs grated together confirming what he already suspected, that more than a few were broken. Not to mention his jaw which had only taken a glancing blow but still hurt more than it should. 

_Crowbar 1, Spiderman 0_

But to be honest it wasn’t the crowbar that did him in. It was probably the combo of three hours of sleep and forgetting breakfast. And lunch. And now probably dinner too if the rapidly dimming sky was any indication. Mix that in with an honestly impressively strong thug who was _really_ good at swinging around a metal club and yeah, you got a little smashed up.

Unfortunately, now that Karen was down, Peter was slightly screwed. He knew he was in an alley, knew the area well enough to plot a mental route back to his apartment, but the very idea of standing up made him feel like vomiting. 

And he didn’t have his phone because why would he need it when he had an AI that could call anyone he might need? 

_For situations like this._

Yeah, that made sense. But he’d be fine. It wouldn’t be long before his injuries started to heal and then he’d be fine. He could hold out until then. He shifted backward against the wall and tried to keep his wheeze to a minimum in case anyone was close enough to hear.

But the more he focused on it, the worse Peter’s head began to ache, a steady staccato beat that made his eyes want to slip shut. He could almost hear Mr. Stark’s voice reminding him that _the one thing you don’t do with a head injury is go to fucking sleep._

The throb overpowered any remembered warnings and Peter couldn’t keep himself from nodding off.

⁂

Peter woke up to a gentle hand on his shoulder and a God-awful pain ricocheting down his side. His face felt strange, ache-y and stiff with something that tasted a lot like blood. Images flashed behind closed lids, the sound of metal against bone and all he could think was _oh shit._

“Jesus, Peter if you could open your eyes you’d be saving my heart from a whole lot of unnecessary strain.” Yeah, he knew that voice.

He forced them open and blinked up in surprise at the very real, very much there Tony Stark. The Iron Man suit stood empty just behind him, leaving the man in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a loose fitting white t-shirt. Not to mention the almost comedic amount of worry on his face. 

“M’ster Stark! Why’re you h’re?” 

“I get an alert that his suit has sustained damage _and_ his AI is offline, plus he doesn’t respond to _any_ of my damn calls, but he _still_ asks what I’m doing here? Oi, this kid.” Mr. Stark muttered, more to himself than Peter. 

He said something else but Peter doesn’t really hear it, the noise too muffled and quiet. He does catch the end of Friday’s apparent response though, something along the lines of “a grade three concussion” and he can definitely see Tony’s face pale, his mouth setting in a dangerous way. 

There were more words and then the older man is crouched in front of him, a hand cupping the side of his face that didn’t hurt too badly, “Okay, we’re stuck here for a second, sorry bud. Just until Happy brings the car.” He added at Peter’s annoyed grunt. 

“No suit?”

“With seven broken ribs, a fractured jaw, _and_ quite possibly one of the worst concussions I’ve ever seen? Yeah, no, not doing that,” 

“Oof,” That explained why it still hurt. And why he couldn’t seem to focus on a damn thing. 

“Definite ‘oof’ kid. How’d you even- nevermind. Don’t try to talk just yet. But I’m expecting some kind of explanation once Helen’s fixed you up, no weaseling out of it.” The words were softened by Tony settling beside him, close enough that it made something tight in Peter’s chest relax, but distant enough to not jostle him.

“I nev’r weasel,” Peter tried to remember what a weasel looked like, his mind coming up with a warped rat-thing that maybe? had a tail, before Tony’s dry chuckle snapped him out of it.

“Uh huh, sure you don’t.” 

He couldn’t think of a response, his head too heavy and sore, so he simply settled it against Tony’s shoulder in lieu of answering. 

“Just stay awake a few more minutes, yeah? Then we’ll get you some good drugs and a nice comfy bed, okay?” 

“Mm hm.” 

“I mean it Spiderkid, I need those eyes to stay open.” 

“They are!”

“But no talking,” Mr. Stark tsked,”we don’t wanna fuck that jaw up any worse.”

Peter rolled his eyes, pleased that at least that action didn’t result in scolding or further pain. It did make him want to close them again, though. Headlights lit up the alley and Tony’s relieved sigh was the last thing Peter heard before he fell back asleep. 


End file.
